


Strange Satisfaction

by saltandbyrne



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftercare, Alien Biology, Armpit Kink, Brothels, Come Eating, Comeplay, Crack Treated Seriously, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Facials, Felching, Fluff and Crack, Gangbang, Interspecies Sex, Kylo Ren is Not Matt the Radar Technician, Love at First (Dick) Sight, M/M, Multi, Nipple Play, Non-binary character, Power Bottom Techie, Praise Kink, Prostitution, Rimming, Schmoop, Sex Worker Matt, Size Kink, Sluts in Love, Snowballing, Spitroasting, Tentacle Sex, Xeno, belly bulge, bottom Techie, brief offhand bestiality porn reference, top matt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 19:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13864257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/pseuds/saltandbyrne
Summary: For all that Techie is many things – awkward, strange, idiosyncratic, prone to making people uncomfortable, and deeply, unrepentantly promiscuous if given the opportunity – he’s not a coward.  He’s been saving up for this trip for two years, ever since he read about this place on the chatlog of one of his favorite holovid sites.The best dick in the galaxy.That’s what he’s here for.(aka, the schmoopiest gangbang in the entire galaxy)





	Strange Satisfaction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Exaggerated_Specificity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaggerated_Specificity/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to my love exaggerated_specificity. I can't express how much your friendship means to me, so instead I wrote you this really nasty but secretly very schmoopy space gangbang! I love you. #knightsofres 5ever.

The shuttle is colder than he’d thought it would be.

Techie tugs the frayed edges of his sleeves over his hands.  The two troopers making the jump with him have quilted Order-issue casual jackets zipped up around their necks. 

_ Jerks _ .

All of his research had told him that Pyyra was warm this time of year.  Not like Techie’s exactly drowning in wardrobe options.  When he’s not in a jumpsuit he’s usually naked or wearing the Order-issued sweats that come for free at the gym.  Techie saves his credits for other things.

Well, one other thing.

Shivering in a sweater his last bunkmate had left behind, Techie hurtles through hyperspace toward the sole focus of all his financial planning for the last two years. 

Dropping out of hyperspeed, at least, has gotten better.  His stomach still seems to take a few seconds to catch up, but he’s mostly gotten used to it aboard the Finalizer.  He’s usually not this excited to be dropped into the still void of space like an egg into boiling water.

To be fair, he’s not usually on his way to a brothel, either.

“Your stop, freakazoid.”

Techie’s stomach is still settling back into space-time, keeping him enough off guard to look up at the trooper.  He looks back down before he can catch the frown the guy gives him.  His eyes make people uncomfortable.  He makes people uncomfortable.

Techie keeps his eyes on the shuttle floor until they reach the surface.  He signs off on all of his shore-leave documentation, including the standard rider that he will not “acquire any intimate infections of an untreatable nature.”  He swipes his thumb and ignores the pointed, lewd look his shuttle lieutenant gives him. 

There are only a few reasons people come to Pyrra.

The Pyrra port is bursting with bright colors.  The air is balmy and just humid enough to make his chest feel full.  Or maybe that’s just nerves.  There are so many people, human and otherwise, crowding in around him as he makes his way off the shuttle gangplank and out into the bustling port.

Stalls teem with bright fabrics and blooming flowers, gaudy jewelry and fragrant incense, trilling birds in delicate, wrought-gententhium cages.  Even though most of the merchandise is cheap and tawdry, the overall effect is oddly beautiful.  Techie’s eyes click through three cycles to adjust after his long, monochromatic exile aboard the Finalizer.

He follows the directions on his com to weave through jam-packed, narrow streets and across a wide boulevard with a tiered fountain and what seem like a hundred buskers vying for his attention.  A man juggles a long stick with flaming pitch on both ends and for once Techie’s glad his hair is still tied back in Order regulation.

Madame Idez’s House of Satisfaction sits at the top of a small hill.  It’s painted in a riot of purples and surrounded by what Techie can only call highly suggestive topiary.  He pauses as he reaches the threshold.  He’s about to drop fifty thousand credits and attempt to live out about eighteen holoporns in the next three cycles at this place. 

The doorbell stares at him like a dare.  Techie has always preferred men but the bell reminds him of a certain part of the human female anatomy many of his bunkmates have waxed poetic about.  He swallows and curls his fingers, fidgeting like he always does when he’s nervous.

The door opens unbidden and Techie almost drops his small travel satchel.

“Welcome to the house of Madame Idez’fafa, Mistress of the Arts of Satisfaction.  We’ve been expecting you,” says a tall, stately Cathar.  He’s wearing a close-cropped jacket with gleaming brass buttons and his mane in a tight, intricate series of braids.  His teeth glint sharply when he smiles and looks Techie up and down.

Techie is definitely underdressed.

The Cathar introduces himself as Khondo as he leads Techie into the grand entrance of Madame Idez’s house.  It’s even more opulent on the inside.  A massive chandelier hangs from the ceiling, which must be four stories above Techie’s head.  Every visible surface is adorned, the walls with florid, flocked paper depicting stylized lovers and blooming flowers, the floors with radiating mosaic tile in a rainbow of colors, the corners bursting with statuary of muscled, large individuals from all species in the galaxy.  Techie doesn’t even recognize half of them.

The entrance radiates off into a series of smaller halls, each one softly lit in a different hue of purple.  Techie follows Khondo down a hall bathed in soft amethyst, under a domed ceiling that flashes with gilt murals of half-naked gladiators in repose, drinking flasks of wine and adorned with crowns of flowers.  The walls are set with bulging columns that bear a striking resemblance to the topiary outside.

He shouldn’t really expect much subtlety at a place like this.

They pass a bar area whose main theme seems to be “how much gold can we put on every surface”.  The shirtless being behind the bar shakes a gold mixer in one of his hands, while the other three pass delicate flutes of something bubbly to a trio of giggling Twi’lek matrons.  A few couples cluster around the low tables flanking the perimeter of the room – another lounging Cathar with a beautiful striped mane feeding some stemmed fruit to a fire-haired, buxom human, a broad-shouldered Ligroni sharing sips off a massive bowl of punch with his Tarthian companion, two Nevari gentlemen stroking all three of their clawed fingers up the bulging biceps of a nearly-naked Unsur.  All of the clientele certainly look … satisfied.  Techie blushes as the Unsur flexes his arm and gives him a coy wink.

Khondo leads him to a small room off the bar.  It’s intimate but well-appointed, with a plush couch piled with cushions and a table teeming with fruits and sweets and steaming pots of what smells like mintleaf tea.  A censer oozes plumes of white smoke in the corner, just spicy enough to fill the room but not unpleasant. 

“Thank you for joining us, Techie.”

Khondo beckons for him to sit on the couch.  He hands Techie a slim com tablet and demonstrates how to swipe it into operation.  Techie patiently endures the explanation.  He could hack a fleet of bombers with this thing in his sleep.  Goodness knows he’s hacked enough holoporn out of similar ones back on ship.

“These are our standard disclaimers, please read them and initial with your print,” Khondo says.

Techie scrolls through a truly impressive array of quasi-legal disclaimers, and this is coming from someone who writes code for fascist micro-managers.  Techie signs away his right to bring claim for an encyclopedia of injuries, unanticipated allergic reactions, lingering paresthesia, abdominal complications, fainting, dizziness, dry mouth, and, notably, “altered gait.”   _ Stars _ .

“Excellent.  Now, the fun part.”

Khondo swipes one trimmed claw across the com and brings up a new screen.

“We like to offer a curated experience to our clients.  As you know, all of Madame Ipez’s talent is well-trained to please our clients who enjoy the receptive arts of lovemaking.  Filling out these questions will help us get a better sense of your distinct preferences in this arena.”

The calm, business-like tone Khondo uses to basically ask “how do you like to get fucked” is oddly soothing.  Techie nods, swallowing down the fleet of reservations rising in his chest.

“Please, take your time.  The com will guide you through a series of tailored questions.  If any terms are unfamiliar to you, you can click the purple-highlighted text for an illustrative demonstration featuring some of our house talent.  When you’re finished, the Madame herself will be in to assist you with talent selection for your stay.”

Khondo reviews their general policies and prices, half of which Techie can barely pay attention to.  He gets the basics – his room and board is covered for three cycles, the “menu of talent services” can be accessed from his compad, and there are no refunds.  Techie has enough credits squirreled away to hire every sentient being under this roof. 

“And allow me to remind you, no request is too … eccentric for Madame Idez.  We aim to please,” Khondo says, his muzzle curling into a polite, understanding smile.

“I’ll remove your things to your room.  Please, do help yourself to some refreshments.  Many of our human clientele find the tea to be quite pleasant.”

“Thanks, um, thank you,” Techie mumbles, his eyes narrowing on the question flashing across his screen.  He waits until Khondo softly closes the door to pour some tea and stare down at the screen.

_ Have you ever engaged in penetrative sex? Yes // No // NA _

Techie has to snort at that one.  At least he knows he likes  _ that _ .

He taps “Yes” and lets the com guide him through a series of questions that parse out his sexual history, with polite follow-ups about whether he’d enjoyed each experience. After swiping yes to “Have you ever participated in sex with multiple partners in an anonymous setting?” and “Did you find this experience enjoyable?”, Techie pauses on the next question.

_ Have you ever engaged in sexual activity with a species other than your own? _

There’s nowhere for Techie’s eyes to rest that isn’t a blinking screen or a vaguely phallic decorative object.  Even the curled handle of his teacup is … muscular.  He takes a sip, which, for all his mounting fear, is truly delicious, they’ve really thought of every detail here.  This place is famous for a reason.  Famous and outrageously expensive.

Techie’s tea warms his chest as he swallows.  He’d swiped  _ Yes _ to that, too. 

For all that Techie is many things – awkward, strange, idiosyncratic, prone to making people uncomfortable, and deeply, unrepentantly promiscuous if given the opportunity – he’s not a coward.  He’s been saving up for this trip for two years, ever since he read about this place on the chatlog of one of his favorite holovid sites.   _ The best dick in the galaxy _ .  That’s what he’s here for.

He tucks one foot under himself and clicks the  _ No _ button.

What seems like a million questions later, Techie has rated his interest in every sexual act conceivable and about two dozen he genuinely had to watch the infoclips to even picture.  Turns out “carapacing” is probably not his thing, but he has a new appreciation for the four-armed bartender.  He blinks at the glowing “Thank You” screen.

Techie’s fingers tend to fidget when he’s nervous.  Without his usual stash of cupric wire to fiddle with, he takes a green fruit with a pitted skin and starts peeling it, carefully tugging the rind into one long, pith-lined curl.  It has a sharp, pleasant smell, a nice complement to the tea.

He takes his first juicy bite as the door opens.

There’s no mistaking her for anyone other than Madame Idez.  Techie has always thought Twi’leks get more beautiful as they age, and Madame Idez is certainly no exception.  Her coloring is the pale violet of an impending sunsrise, darkening to a deep amethyst at the tips of her adorned head tails.  Woven gold bands wrap in intricate knots up her tails and around her forehead, crowned with dangling purple jewels that jangle pleasantly as she walks.  Her eyelids are flecked with gold and the small crinkles that fold around her eyes suit her well.  This is someone who’s spent her life laughing.

“Techie, welcome.”

Her voice is raspy and warm.  Techie swallows his fruit and accepts her surprisingly firm handshake. 

“I’m so glad you decided to join us.  Have my boys been making you comfortable?”

“Oh, yes, thank you,” Techie says, trying to put his fruit peel down without making a mess.  He knocks over a small tower of bush-cherries, blushing under Madame Idez’s arched eyebrow.  She must think he’s a bumbling idiot already.

“Sorry, I,” Techie mumbles, succeeding only in getting more fruit and half a dozen biscuits on the floor.  This is going well.

“You know what’s great about this place?”

Madame Idez’s hand is tiny on top of his.  She takes both of Techie’s hands in her own and sits down next to him on the couch.

“I have guys for that,” she says, leaning in until her impressive, violet-streaked cleavage is pushed out over the top of her cropped vest. 

“I have guys to clean, I have guys to cook, I have guys who aren’t good for anything but standing around and looking pretty.  I have guys who can carry me around in a litter if I tell them to.”

She smiles and leans in, folding one leg into her lap.  Techie can’t help but warm to the easy lilt of her laugh.

“Mind you, I’m using your fairly limited human parlance for individuals with external genitalia, but you get the gist.”

She winks at him as Techie smiles, some of the tension easing out of his spine.  Techie never had siblings but he imagines this is what having a sister is like.  Or one of the really cool, sexy moms that seem to be popular in the mainstream holovids half the troopers on his ship regularly stream.

“Yes, I, uh, I get the gist,” Techie says, the blush on his cheeks equal parts bashful and excited under Madame Idez’s warm confidence.

“I mean, that’s why you’re here, right?” she says, raising her manicured eyebrows and reaching out for a biscuit shaped like a leaf, or possibly a sex organ, it’s hard to tell here.  She bites into the bright yellow confection and moans softly.

“Mmm, please tell me you ate one of these, Rin outdid himself today.”

She hands him a biscuit and Techie has to admit, they’re delicious.  Light citrus and cream burst on his tongue, with a lingering floral note that fills his nose pleasantly.  Everything in this place is pleasant, if a little overdone.  Madame Idez licks a crumb off her fingertip.

“There’s one thing that unites all beings in the galaxy, Techie.  We are all built for pleasure,” she says, leaning in as her eyes light up.  They’re the prettiest shade of pale green under her glitter-dusted eyelashes. 

“Some of us more than others,” she adds.  Techie grins as she playfully squeezes his knee.  She’s just doing her job and being a good sales representative, he knows that, but the genuine warmth in her voice eases his mind. 

“I have one rule here, Techie.  Never feel guilty for what you want,” she says, her voice low and earnest.  She picks up the compad and swipes it open, bringing up a holoscreen above them.  There, rendered in decorative graphics and purple font, is a florid, glowing list of all the things Techie wants.  Somewhere between mortified and thrilled, Techie nervously reaches for his tea.  It’s easier with something in his hands.

“I know you’re nervous, it’s normal.”

Madame Idez gives him a sympathetic look, her head tails curling back around her arms. 

“But my name is on this place.  All of my talent is vetted, reviewed and thoroughly trained, either by myself or some of my very, very lucky friends.”

She laughs again, the kind of laugh for secrets between close friends.  Techie doesn’t really have friends like that, but Madame Idez must have hundreds. 

“And they’re all good at one thing.  Giving you,” she taps his nose and grins so wide he can see the sharpened points of her eye teeth, “exactly what you want.”

“OK, I can, um, that sounds good,” Techie says, pushing his hair back where it’s started to fall out of his regulation tie-back.  He’s so far-removed from that shuttle, from the Finalizer, from anything he’s used to.  It’s not a terrible feeling.

“You are going to get fucked in ways you can’t even imagine,” she says, whispering  _ fucked _ and grinning with delight.

Techie bites his lip and smiles.  Not a terrible feeling at all.

“Now you, my dear, are my kind of human.  You lot are usually a little uptight if I’m honest, but this is a list I can work with.”

She claps the tips of her fingers together like a thrilled child.  Techie blinks up at the old-fashioned script warmly proclaiming “Ejaculate, Size Challenges, Multiple Partners, Interspecies Partners, Oral Sex – Giving, Oral Sex – Receiving,” and about two dozen other things that could quantify most of his holoporn collection and get him flagged for “unsanctioned erotic content” if he didn’t know his way around the First Order server alerts. 

“Stars, that’s, um, is that, you know, really long?  My list, I mean.”

Techie’s eyes whir softly as “Manual Intercourse” dances across the holoscreen.

“I might’ve gotten a little, um, carried away.”

“It’s perfect,” Madame Idez reassures him, scrunching up her nose like he’s a Tooka pup. 

“And it’s going to make my favorite part even more fun,” she says, reaching for another biscuit.  She pops the whole thing in her mouth and swipes the holoscreen to the right, leaving his list floating to the side while a dozen new screens appear.

“Based on your listed interests, prior experiences, physical capability, and personality assessment, I give you: this evening’s entertainment.”

Suspended in the air in front of him, each screen holds a live-action clip of what Madame Idez’s House of Satisfaction is most famous for: the biggest cocks in the galaxy.  Techie’s pulse quickens as he watches a muscular, sea-green Krogon stroke his ridged, iridescent cock.  A whipcord-lean Twi’lek with the pointed tip of his midnight blue cock rolled between his fingers hovers next to him, below a Limani whose cock opens and closes at the head like a hungry flower.  There are species Techie can’t even name jerking off in front of his face.

Stars, this is … this is really happening, right now, in Techie’s actual lifetime, not some late night third-wank fantasy in his bunk.  Techie’s been fucked, goodness knows, fucked in ways that would horrify half his shipmates and keep the other half coming back for more in dark service corridors and cramped machine rooms.  It’s just … they’ve all been human, even the ones who’ve treated him like he’s barely that.

“I don’t know, um, I’m not sure, it’s just, wow,” Techie tries, his left hand curling and uncurling in an old nervous habit.  

“They’re so…”

“Gorgeous, aren’t they?”

Techie’s eyes flick over the hovering dick show in front of his face, equally enthralled and disquieted.  They  _ are _ gorgeous, all of them, from the massive Krogon to the curling, shining tentacles winding across another screen.  They’re gorgeous in the way of all strange things, enticing for all that they aren’t meant for him.

“I just, um, I maybe, should’ve, maybe I should have, I don’t know…”

Techie trails off as his eyes focus on one of the screens in the back.  It’s cropped to just a torso, with pale skin dotted with buck-brown moles and a mouth-watering, dark curl of hair creeping down from his navel to his absolutely staggering cock.  The only way Techie knows this guy has never made porn is because he’s one hundred percent certain he would have found it and memorized every second of every holovid he’d ever appeared in.   

“Is that,” Techie asks, reluctant to tear his gaze away as the guy strokes himself in his equally massive hand.  Even his thighs look like tree trunks.   _ Stars _ .

“Is that a human?”

“You know, I wasn’t even sure if I should include him or not.”

Madame Idez taps the compad and brings the guy front and center.  Techie presses his lips together as a clear drop of precome leaks out of his cock.

“He looks, um, nice,” Techie says, tucking his hair behind his ear and wincing at his choice of words.   _ Nice _ .  He looks like he could hold Techie up against a wall with one hand and fuck him cross-eyed.

“Matt is one of our sweetest humans.  Don’t let the big muscles fool you.  He’s strong, but he’s also very sensual.”

Madame Idez leans in, bumping her arm against Techie’s.

“He always gets high marks for oral sex, and he can fuck for  _ hours _ .”

She scrunches her nose again, her eyes crinkling at the corners.  It’s more than just happiness, it’s the sheer fun she’s having, her grasp and revelry in the vulgarity all around them.  Techie falls into it, biting his lip as he watches the guy, Matt, stroke his cock. 

“Yeah, he’s, uh, he’s definitely my type,” he says, smiling.

“You two had so many likes in common I figured I’d throw him in even if he’s not as, well, exotic as my other guys.”

Techie had clicked so many boxes.  Which ones does he have in common with this guy?

“Matt and Tor make a really nice team, and if you’re open to –”

“Could I, um, maybe just start with him?”

Techie presses his lips together, rolling his teeth along the inside.  He can’t do that when he meets Matt, he’ll have to remember.  No one likes nervous lip-biters.  Madame Idez’s look of maternal pity is a little more tolerable.

“I think that’s a great idea, Techie.  You can warm up with something a little more familiar.”

She swipes all the screens down and Techie’s heartbeat settles back to something approaching normal without the floating parade of interspecies dick. 

She reviews the house policies again, diving into slightly more intimate areas than Khondo had.  She talks about tipping the staff and ordering food with the same ease as swallowing jizz and the etiquette of oral-anal contact.  There’s a word he’s supposed to say if he’s freaking out and a dozen menus to order food, companionship, a dizzying array of sex toys, fresh linens, and any number of Pyrran cures for unforeseen discomfort.

“You can drown yourself in as much semen and other sexual fluid as you want, but we’re not responsible for the side effects of any other bodily substances you consume.”

_ Stars _ .  Even with all his boxes Techie still blinks back a moment’s shock.  Strangely reassured that he is not, in fact, the most depraved being in the entire galaxy, Techie signs his final release and lets Madame Idez bid him farewell in a cloud of cheek kisses and hothouse perfume. 

~

His rooms must be some of the nicest in the house.  A bed large enough for eight people takes center stage, raised on a fabric-covered dais and brimming with an orgy of pillows.  Overstuffed chairs flank either side, each one of them big enough for two people, the rounded arms covered with stacks of soft-looking cloths, blankets maybe? 

No.  Not blankets.  Techie’s jizz-rags on the Finalizer aren’t nearly this nice but he can recognize one when he sees it.

His eyes whir softly at the indigo blues and bright azures of his room.  He’d imagined lots of pulsing reds and oranges at a place like this but the soothing scheme is a refreshing rest stop from the onslaught of sex all around him.  The sideboards lining the room are teeming with things Techie doesn’t even have names for but recognizes as sex toys somewhere deep in his insatiable psyche.  Sleek acrylux containers glisten with what must be lube, enough of it to drown Techie three times over.

Techie swallows and forces himself to listen to the exceptionally tall footman’s instructions about using the compad in the wall if he wants to change the lights or refresh his tea or order more personal lubricant or have a med droid attend to any mild injuries.  He says all of these things as if they’re exactly the same, in the steady, soothing tone Techie suspects all of the house staff have been drilled in by Madame Idez.

“Do forgive my presumption, but you do know how to use a water bath?”

In truth, the concept is as foreign to Techie as half the alien cock he’s presumably taking later.  Much like getting reamed by some non-human “house talent,” the mechanics of it are straightforward in theory if not in practice.  It’ll be strange to wash his body with something that doesn’t vibrate over his skin like the sonics he’s used to.

“Yeah, I can manage,” Techie says, grinning politely.  If Pyrra has two things, it’s brothels and water.  Techie had done his research, and encountered a painful amount of double-entendre involving the word “wet.”

Techie smiles at the Limani who sets his luggage by the door and softly excuses himself after Techie’s reassurance that he doesn’t have any more questions.  Madame Idez had already reviewed the vaguely mortifying “intimate preparation items” waiting for him in the fresher, although she’d made it sound like painting his nails or some other mundane activity. 

The fresher is absolutely massive, with textured granice floors and a gleaming white tub inlaid with pale blue designs that match the rest of the vaguely reproductive décor.  The lip of the tub is wide enough to serve as a bench.  Techie’s mind flashes through about a dozen uses for it as he runs his hands over the cool porcelain and the fluffy, void-blue towels stacked at either end of the ornate taps.  They’re as soft as the linens on the bed and the sweet-cloud meringues piled on the sideboards.  Soft things to steel him for the hard ones.

Techie runs the taps and smiles.

~

An hour later Techie is pinked to his ears and as gleaming clean as he can get. 

Water baths are  _ lovely _ .

He slips into the robe he’d found folded on one of the fresher shelves.  It fits him perfectly, which makes sense given he’d had to provide his height and weight before he’d booked his stay.  His hair hangs damp around his ears, clinging to his neck.  He can’t recall the last time his hair was wet with something other than his own sweat or some particularly enthusiastic trooper’s load.

He settles on one of the bedside chairs, repositioning himself a dozen times before abandoning all hope of getting truly comfortable.  He’s got a stomach full of buzzers and not much else.

Techie’s contemplating more of that tea when there’s a knock on the door.

“Um, come in?”

Stand up or sit down? Robe fetchingly open or tied tight around his waist? Men always like his slim waist.  Is his hair a mess?  He keeps it long for the sole indulgence of having someone pull it, a pleasure well worth the regulation bun he has to wear on the rare times he attends formal events. 

Naturally, Techie’s stuck in some awkward halfway between tucking his hair behind his ears and turning up the collar of his robe when the door opens. 

“Hi.  I’m Matt.”

Of all the possible things Techie could take in – the sheer size of the guy, the awkward stance of his huge,  _ Stars _ , absolutely huge hands on his hips, the absurd magma-orange vest barely covering his bare pecs, the cling of his trousers to thighs Techie would happily hump to his own shameful completion – it’s his hair that makes Techie open his stupid mouth before his brain can catch up.

“You’re blonde?”

“I’m … yeah?”

Matt stands in front of the door and runs a hand through the thick, honeyed curls on his head. 

“Is that OK?”  Matt’s face falls, his shoulders sloping down and his lower lip pouting out.  His mouth is a work of art, plush and full and a shade of pink so beautiful it must be natural or everyone in the galaxy would be wearing it. 

“I can ask them to send someone else if—”

“No, no!”  Techie surges to his feet, his eyes still stuck on Matt’s mouth and the dark constellation of moles on either side of it.  In his haste to keep Matt from leaving, Techie briefly forgets his earlier styling efforts and finds the front of his robe hanging open for one horrifying second.

“Please, no, it’s lovely, I just,” Techie says, fumbling with the sash of his robe.  His fingers, normally so nimble with wrought cupric and keypads, are about as useful as the cloud meringues dotting his laden sideboard.

“I just figured, from your, um, from your holo, you’d be, you know.  Darker.”

Robe closed, Techie swallows noisily enough to regret it as he looks up into Matt’s face.

There’s a kind of handsome that abounds in the First Order.  Techie’s not sure if it’s a result of the Officer training or some sort of eugenics program, but all of the admired men on any vessel he’s ever work have had the same sleek, symmetrical look to them.  Crisp hair and sharp chins and lean noses.  Techie has fucked so much of that kind of handsome, whether it slinks down to the shadowed corners he frequents when he’s in one of his moods or summons him to a stately en suite. 

Matt is ruggedly, abjectly unhandsome.  His mulish jaw slopes to one side, dotted along the way with more dark moles that stretch down to his long neck.  His eyes are too small for his face and enormous all at once, staring down at Techie over a nose that would feel so good pressed to Techie’s sensitive, throbbing taint.  His mind always wanders to filth.

“It’ll grow out eventually.  Felt like trying something new,” Matt says, from above him, because Matt is not only built like a farm animal and bizarrely beautiful, he’s taller than Techie.  Not that it matters when he’s on his knees, but Techie has always stood taller than most people he meets. 

Techie looks up into Matt’s blinking, brown eyes and finds him smiling. 

“I’m Techie,” he says, for lack of anything better. 

“I know,” Matt says, his gaze settling on Techie’s eyes and cycling through the usual surprise-embarrassment-horror flight pattern of all new people.  Techie steels himself for the resulting lack of eye contact for the rest of the evening, just to find Matt doing something no one has ever done.  He keeps staring.

“Your eyes,” Matt says, one big hand rising by his side before he pulls it back.

“They’re—”

“I was in an accident, when I was a kid, they, um, I’m sorry about the redness, it’s not con—”

“They’re so  _ cool _ .”

Matt leans closer, close enough that Techie can smell the warm, clean scent of his hair.  Matt’s smile cracks wider as Techie’s pupils click to dilation from the sudden closeness (and, if he’s being honest, how fucking good Matt smells).

“Oh, wow, can you control them?”

“Not, like, not really?  I mean, they’re plasma-circed into my brain so it’s mostly, um, involuntary.  Sorry, I’m not … they usually freak people out.”  Techie shrugs, fixed in placed as Matt keeps right on staring.

“You’re like a cyborg,” Matt says, and that one Techie’s heard before, usually in some combination of robot-mutant-freak.  There’s something about the way Matt says it, though.  Like it’s … cool.

“Wait.”

Matt leans in so close his nose almost bumps against Techie’s.

“Do you have night-vision?”

Techie laughs at the earnest way he says it.  It’s dizzying.  He hasn’t had anyone look him in the eyes like this since he was a child with living parents and a pet Ragna named Floofer.

“Kind of?”  Techie grins at the soft, “Whoa,” Matt lets out.

“I can see a little more of the spectrum than, you know, normal human eyes.  And I process information faster, I think.  Or maybe I’m just like that, I don’t really know.”

“I can’t believe you picked me,” Matt says, still staring at him, and for the first time in his life, Techie flushes with the attention of someone who’s staring at him like he’s too good to be true.

“I just mean, I don’t get many humans, like, at all.  Ever.  I guess it’s pretty easy to find some human dude who’s willing to fuck you.  Oh, fucking stars, I didn’t mean you personally, jeesh, you probably have guys begging you left and right.  Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s, um, it’s fine,” Techie says.  He violates his no lip-biting rule as he lays one hand on Matt’s broad, bare chest.

Two things dawn on Techie: Matt is so warm Techie can feel it radiating off his skin, and Matt is really fucking awkward.  Both of these things make something warm unfold inside of Techie’s stomach.

“You’re human, but you’re, um, you seem like a pretty exceptional … human.”

Techie looks down pointedly before returning to Matt’s face.  He’s grinning so wide Techie can see the spaces between his pointed canine teeth. 

“I have a  _ really _ big dick.”

Techie can’t help it.  He laughs, glad when Matt joins him.  Matt has dimples.

“Guess you knew that already, huh?” Matt says, his eyes finally leaving Techie’s eyes.  They settle on his mouth in a way that’s just as thrilling. 

“This is, just, I’ve never done anything like this, at all,” Techie says, frowning as Matt’s hands freeze on his shoulders.

“You’re a virgin?”

“Oh stars no, not, like, not at all.”  Techie rolls his eyes, wondering what Matt would say if Techie told him just how much of a not-virgin he is.  Probably something obtuse and impossibly endearing.

“Oh, good,” Matt says, his face relieved.

“That’s too much responsibility for me.”

“I mean, I guess I’m, um, kind of a non-human virgin?”

“Now that, I’m used to.  Around here I’m usually the first human they’ve ever, you know, fucked around with.”

How different that must be, to be an attraction like the other aliens are to Techie.  With all his years on sterile, anthrocentric First Order vessels, he forgets how vast the galaxy truly is sometimes.

“Well, I’ve fucked around … plenty, I just.  I got a little overwhelmed, I guess?  With all the … choices.”  Techie shrugs.

“And I’ve never paid, you know.  For sex.  I don’t really know, I mean, Madame Idez explained about a million things to me, but.  Do I just, tell you what I want to do?”

He’s not even sure what he wants to do yet.  He wants to know what Matt tastes like, but everything after that is hazy. 

“Oh, I memorized your list.”

Matt squeezes his shoulder before walking over to the compad and swiping up a small holoscreen swirling with all of Techie’s exuberantly checked boxes.

“Well, most of it.  I’m working on getting better at that part,” Matt shrugs.  He turns to the floating screen, giving Techie a good view of his broad back.  Even his neck is thick.  Techie carefully adjusts the collar of his robe, smoothing it down while Matt’s not looking. 

Matt lets out a low whistle where he’s facing the screen.

“I’m impressed.  Seriously, this is—”  Matt shakes his head, his finger hovering over a word Techie’s embarrassed to type into his compad back on his ship, let alone say out loud.

“So fucking hot.  Not gonna have too much trouble remembering that.”  Matt turns to him and licks his lips, short-circuiting Techie’s brain for a moment.  If Matt likes, well,  _ that _ , those lips would be put to excellent use.   _ Stars _ .

“You are, too.  I mean, you’re, um,” Techie swallows, pushing his hair behind his ear again. 

“You’re really hot.”

“Oh, yeah, I always run a little warm, it’s, like, a family thing,” Matt says, running a big hand through his hair.  That’s thick, too.

“I sort of sweat a lot, too, did they tell you that? Sorry, it’s—”

“That’s fine, it’s – I like that?  And I didn’t mean, like, heat-hot.  You’re, um.”

Techie swallows, lets his hand find Matt’s chest again. 

“You’re very attractive.”

He pushes at the opening of Matt’s absurd vest, finding more of those little dark moles dotting his skin.  Matt’s chest swells under his attention, pleased as a mating Kiros bird.  Techie slides the vest down one shoulder, over skin a different kind of pale than his own.  It’s warm under his hand.

“I’d like, um.  Can you take this off?”

“Yeah,” Matt nods, tugging it off and dropping it to the floor more like a hasty teenager than a professional sex worker.  It’s charming.  He steps in closer to Techie, flexing a little under Techie’s gaze. 

“Can I kiss you, Techie?”

Techie nods his assent and suddenly, Matt is all around him.  His lips are warm and full and soft, pressing gently against Techie’s like he’s going to startle him, like Techie hadn’t sucked off five troopers in a utility closet last week.  There’s a soaped-clean scent that rolls off of Matt’s skin, even his fingertips as he brings them up to gently frame Techie’s face. 

For all of Techie’s non-virginity, kissing is less familiar to him.  He likes it, loves it, really, if he’s being honest.  Men don’t really like kissing him that much.  Matt’s tongue teases its way into his mouth in small, testing licks that make Techie’s toes curl.  He tastes good, like the minty tea and sweet biscuits Techie’s also paying for.  It’s on purpose, of course, all of this is, but it’s nice to think Matt brushed his teeth and scrubbed himself clean just for Techie. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Matt whispers, when he finally pulls away.  Techie sways on his feet for a second, more than a little dizzy as he chases the warm press of Matt’s mouth.

_ Gorgeous _ .  Techie snorts.  He can forgive Matt being a little over-the-top.  It’s probably how Madame Idez trains all of them.

“Can we—”

Techie’s lips taste like Matt when he bites them. 

“Can we be on the bed now?”

Matt grins against him and drops his arms to pick Techie up, scooping one hand under his ass and lifting him easily.  Techie’s got nothing on under his robe but his dwindling dignity and the bare flush on his skin. 

“Yeah,” Matt says, huffing against Techie’s mouth as he pushes Techie’s legs to wrap around his waist.

Techie’s cock is halfway to hard just from pressing against Matt’s firm stomach.  Matt doesn’t seem to mind.  He wraps one thick arm around Techie’s waist and kisses him as he carries him to the bed.  Techie’s been manhandled his fair share in his life but no one’s ever carried him like a Zhadalene warbride about to be deflowered.  Techie wraps his arms around Matt’s neck and kisses him back, closing his eyes and sighing.

It’s all going really well until Matt trips over the platform surrounding the bed and dumps Techie like a sack of grain rations.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Matt rights himself from his stumble to one knee.  The erection tenting the front of his pants is both heartbreaking and utterly hilarious to Techie.  He claps a hand over his mouth to keep from outright laughing.

“I’m fine,” Techie says, smiling up at Matt as he rakes a hand through his hair.  Techie lowers his hand and inches over, not that there isn’t plenty of space for an entire litter of Matts in this bed.  This is so far from the hyper-erotic fantasy he’d dimly pictured in all his hasty holoporn sessions and post-coital daydreams, but Matt’s bumbling does more to soothe his nerves than a glass of rotgut. 

“Take, um, take your pants off.”

Why was Techie expecting underwear?  Matt nods, his equilibrium seemingly recovered as he kicks his shoes off, unbuttons his fly and drops his trousers in one smooth, easy motion.  This part he’s clearly used to.  Matt stands up, his hands on his hips and his cock jutting out beneath a set of curls as pretty as the ones on his head.  He’s not a natural blonde, at least not of any variety Techie has ever seen.

Techie’s allowed to stare.  He realizes that his mouth is hanging open just in time for it to flood with spit, while the urge to say “Hello” to Matt’s dick bubbles up hysterically in his chest.  Stars, it’s not even hard all the way.

Matt eases himself on the bed and crawls over to straddle Techie’s thighs, the breadth of his thick legs easily spanning Techie’s forgotten-meals frame.  Techie bites his lip and runs his hands up Matt’s flexed thighs, brushing over corded muscle and the soft hair that thins out toward the crease of his hip.

“The other guys are gonna be so jealous,” Matt says, his eyes wide as he undoes the sash of Techie’s robe and pushes it open.  His flattery is no less pleasant for its undoubted insincerity.  Matt’s certainly good at selling his point, his face captivated as he strokes his overgrown hands down Techie’s chest.  Techie knows what he looks like – an unhealthy sort of pale from too much time shut in his console, his ribs sticking out and what little fat he has stuck squarely on his soft stomach and hips, the stray scars he still carries from his accident, the vibrant swatch of his pubic hair over a fairly unexceptional dick. 

Matt presses over him and kisses him like he’s going to disappear in his arms.  The weighted blanket of Matt’s warm body on top of him, the twitches of his hips that drag his cock to full hardness against Techie’s hip, the way he stops to blink his eyes open and go, “Oh,” down at Techie like he can’t believe he’s still there – this is worth the price of admission alone.  Matt is so good at kissing.

“So what do you want to start with?”

Techie makes an undignified sound when Matt stops kissing him.  The bright excitement on his face softens the blow.  No wonder Madame Idez can charge so much.  It must take months to learn how to act this well.

“What else, um, what else did you like?  I mean, from my, you know, from all the stuff I said I’d, um, Madame Idez said we had a lot in common?”  Techie’s not used to talking this long without someone looking away from him or cutting him off.

“All the jizz stuff, that’s, like, my favorite thing.”

“Oh,” Techie says, because that’s all his brain can manage at the sheer delight with which Matt says “jizz.”   _ Same _ . 

“And gangbangs, yeah, I don’t get to do too many of those and they’re so fun.  I think I’m pretty good at it, too, it’s harder than you think, you know?  Lot of moving parts.”

Techie, who has taken a foot to the face and a dozen other awkward accidents while playing party favor, can sympathize. 

“I’m kind of surprised you just wanted me, just ‘cause, you rated really high for multiple partners,” Matt says, biting his lip as he looks down at Techie.

“I mean, stars, I’ll do anything you want me to, as long as you’ll let me, but.”

“Maybe,” Techie says, his eyes still focused on the sink of Matt’s front teeth into his lip.

“Maybe you could help me?  Like, pick some other…” Techie trails off at  _ people _ , and  _ beings _ still feels strange on his tongue.

“Talent?  Yeah!”

Matt bounds off the bed and makes it across the room without tripping over anything.  He pulls the compad out of its wall holster and brings it back to bed, all the while heedlessly waving his cock in front of him like a homing beacon for Techie’s eyes and his increasingly wet mouth.

It’s lovely to sink back against Matt’s chest as he settles them both against the padded headboard and swipes up the holoscreen.  Matt’s clearly comfortable with the system even if he trips over his own feet like an overgrown Bantha pup.  Techie leans back against Matt’s warmth and watches Matt swipe up three screens.

“This is Tor.  He’s, like, the coolest guy ever.”

Matt pulls forward the center screen, which is lit with a strapping, whipcord-lean species Techie can’t immediately name.  Techie’s cheeks heat up.  He certainly remembers the guy’s dick – the black and white stripes are very distinctive. 

“We do a lot of double-teaming stuff together, he’s just got, like, good energy, you know?”

Techie turns his head to the warmth of Matt’s chest.  If he’s half as pleasant as Matt he’ll be just fine.

“He sounds perfect.”

Matt recommends two other  _ talents _ , Nax, a massive glass-green Krogon with a cock that makes Techie’s spine tingle just looking at it, and Vara, a stunningly beautiful Midori with six fat tentacles curling out of their pubic region.

“Just so you know, Vara’s technically what we’d call female, I guess, although Midori don’t use that word.  Is that cool?  She’s awesome, trust me.”

“Sure, I don’t care,” Techie says, shrugging against Matt as he watches her tentacles furl and coil with prehensile grace. 

“They all, um, everyone sounds great.”

“It’s too bad Brad’s not here, he’s the best.  He’s a Karchar,” Matt says, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, wow, so he’s got—“

“Two dicks, yeah,” Matt nods.

Techie’s seen some pretty insane holoporn in his day, but the one decent movie he’d found with a sleek, grey-skinned Karchar and their notorious twin dicks is definitely in his top five.

“His wife had to pull a double shift at her job and they couldn’t get a babysitter.  Shit, sorry, I’m not supposed to talk about stuff like that.”  Matt grimaces, baring his crooked bottom teeth.  It’s adorable.  Techie should be mortified at the reminder that his wildest fantasy is just a job for everyone else here, but it’s oddly reassuring that Matt keeps apparently fucking up.

Techie fucks up at work all the time.

“I think we, um, I think we have enough dicks.”

Techie laughs, because that is a sentence he never imagined himself uttering.

“Cool.  I’ll get them in here, it’ll just take a little while, you know, they have to review you first.”

“Did you review me?” Techie asks as Matt taps at the compad.

“Of course.  That’s a big part of Madame Idez’s philosophy.  We don’t, like,  _ have _ to see anyone.  I mean, I don’t get paid to sit around the talent lounge and eat framb biscuits all night, but we only see clients we want.  Madame Idez always says lackluster sex means a lack of return business.”

Matt smiles.

“And you’re, stars.”

Matt gestures up and down at Techie’s body like he’s not waving at a pasty-faced coding rat with a pathological appetite for sex. 

“You’re perfect.”

Whatever clever lie this is, Techie will take it.  He’s always been able to suspend disbelief.  With fond excitement swelling in his chest, Techie turns to find Matt’s mouth.  Stars, he’s warm.  Techie crawls up on to him, straddling his waist and letting his hands roam all over Matt’s broad chest. 

“We’ve got some time to kill,” Matt says, his hands spanning the entirety of Techie’s thighs. 

“Can we, um, can you just keep kissing me? I like being kissed.”

Somehow it’s more embarrassing to admit to this tender depravity of Techie’s.  For all his gangbang prowess and underground fame for sucking trooper dick, there are nights when he curls up in his bed and just desperately, hideously wants to be touched.  Touched all over, the way Matt is touching him now, his hands running up Techie’s back and pulling him down to press as close as possible. 

“I like kissing you.”

Matt kisses him all over, from the scar on his forehead to the peaked pink of his nipples, down his arms and up his sides, across his neck and behind his ears where Techie shivers.  Techie could get drunk on this.  Even the fat promise of Matt’s dick grinding against him can’t pull him out of his reverie as they make out like two cadets behind the propaganda bleachers.  Matt flips them over and blankets his warm weight over Techie, squeezing half the air and a long, needy sigh out of him.

“You taste so good,” Matt sighs into his mouth, and before Techie can even make his half-formed comeback about it probably being the tea Matt is sliding down his body and pushing his legs open and  _ yes. _

It’s then, when Matt’s hands are leaving thumb-prints in his thighs and Techie’s eyes are open to full dilation and Matt’s warm, warm breath is almost  _ there _ , it’s then that the door swooshes open and Techie is yanked back to reality.

“Please, don’t stop on my account,” says a smooth voice, purring with amusement and an accent Techie has never heard before.  He grabs the nearest pillow, an over-stuffed thing with heavy tassels swinging from all sides, and stuffs it over his exposed and eagerly hard dick.

“Know you like to watch, Vara,” Matt says, arching one eyebrow and sticks out his tongue which, Stars, that is almost inhumanly long.  Techie swallows and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, a nervous reflex. 

“Maybe, um, maybe I should say hello?” Techie stage-whispers at Matt, who’s still lazing between his legs like this is the most natural thing in his star system.  Techie crawls back, trying to sit up with some semblance of dignity with the pillow still between his legs. 

“Yeah, yes, of course, sorry.”

Matt rakes a hand through his hair and crawls up next to him, pressing his lips to Techie’s cheek.

“But we’re gonna get back to that,” he whispers, low enough for only Techie to hear.  Techie nods, the tips of his ears tingling.

“Techie, meet Tor, Vara, and Nax.”  Matt nods at each one of them before settling into a sprawl at Techie’s side. 

The room seems smaller with three new beings in it.  It doesn’t hurt that they’re all impressively large in some way, whether it’s the long, willowy height of what must be Vara the Midori, the eye-catching head tails of Tor –  _ a Togruta, he can’t be _ – or the sheer, glistening bulk of Nax.  Techie, naked but for his tasseled pillow and the lingering flush on his face from Matt’s heady attention, is truly puny in comparison.

“Hello, Techie.”  Tor’s voice is rich and deep.  

“Thank you for honoring us today.” 

He walks softly in his bare feet, especially for how massive his shoulders are.  Two head-tails curl down to bracket his chest while a third stretches down his back.  They’re striped black and white with touches of grey, in a pretty pattern that reaches up to the peaked horns rising from either side of his head.   _ Montrals _ , Techie distantly recalls, they’re montrals.  Tor’s chest is bare, curving from his broad back into a delicate V at his waist.  His knee-length plain-cloth pants hang scandalously low on his hips, highlighting the dips of his hipbones and the faint crease of the root of his cock.   

“You’re a Togruta, I thought--”

Tor smiles, his sunset-hued face creasing around brilliant green eyes.  “They grew me in a lab.”

He stops at the edge of bed and looks Techie up and down, his tongue slipping out over his burnt crimson lips.  His head tails move slightly, swaying in a way that indicates Tor doesn’t have full control over them, but Techie’s not sure. 

“Would you like to feel them?”

“Yes,” Techie whispers, sensing somehow that this is an intimate act.  Tor joins him and Matt on the bed, sitting back on his knees as he takes Techie’s hand.

“They give me a slight psychic connection with my partners, just so you know.”

He closes it over his right head tail, settling his palm over Techie’s knuckles and urging him to squeeze.  A jolt like a weak electrosurge charges over Techie’s skin, buzzing and not unpleasant.   He kneads softly at the warm, velvety weight of Tor’s head tail and bites his lip.  Techie’s felt this texture before.  It feels like nothing so much as a thick, hard cock. 

“They’re very similar, yes.”

Tor takes his other hand and guides it between his legs, leading him to cup over Tor’s barely-covered cock.  Does Techie think that loud or is it just written all over his face?  He grinds the heel of his hand against Tor’s cock, warmth seeping into both his hands.  Stars, he’s big.

“Don’t worry, he gets hard quick,” Matt says from his half-recline next to Techie’s side.  Techie leans forward, his pillow forgotten as he rolls Tor’s not-even-hard-yet-seven- _ hells _ cock in his hand.

“Oh.”

“I look forward to pleasing you, sweet one.”

Tor tilts his head and drags Techie’s hand up to kiss the translucent inside of his wrist, right where his pulse beats.  Tor reminds him of one of the dashing privateers in the erotic literature lots of the female troopers seem to favor, based on their holonet usage.

Tor starts as a huge, green arm lands across his shoulders.

“Don’t worry if ‘e’s a little disappointing, love, I’ll take care of ye.”

Techie has dealt with several Krogons, and based on his limited sense of scale he would assign Nax with a heavy Kida’an accent and an impressive row of head spikes.  The smooth, speckled green of his skin glints in the low light.  Krogon are just barely humanoid by Order definition, walking upright and utilizing complex language.  The broad, flat snout of his nose and the lenticular double-blink of his eyes still turns Techie’s stomach in the best horror-thrill way.  Nax is massive, muscles that Techie is pretty sure lack human analog rippling under his skin as he gives Tor a half-hug and winks at Techie and Matt. 

He waves all three of his thick, sloping fingers at Techie.  “’Ello, Techie.  M’Nax, pleased to meet ye.”

“Hi,” sounds pretty lame to Techie but it’s impossible to say much else when Nax tugs off the bare scrap of loin cloth that was covering him.  Krogon don’t wear clothing traditionally that Techie can recall.  Between the delineated bulge of what have to be eight different thigh muscles, Nax’s cock sits like a topo-map of some distant ocean floor.  Swirls and bumps and thick, ridged veins wind together toward a pointed head with a wide slit.  It’s a darker green than the rest of him, and as hairless as Nax’s entire body. 

“Nax, darling, try a little subtlety.”  This is Vara.  Her accent struggles around the consonants of Basic, giving her words a sinuous, stretched-out sound. 

Three void-black tentacles slither across Nax’s waist, covering him like one of the crotch-peeker skirts that seem so popular in heterosexual holoporn.  Techie follows them back to their source, tracking up a slender, androgynous body, humanoid in shape if not proportion.  Vara’s face is beautiful for all its subtle strangeness, with huge, milky-violet eyes and full, expressive lips.  Her head is crowned with two rows of subtle bumps, adding to her regal demeanor.

“I apologize for my friend, he is a brute,” Vara says, clucking her tongue and shaking her head.  Like Tor, Techie has never seen a Midori with his own eyes.  They whir softly, adjusting to the matte violet-black of her skin.  Techie can just make out a fainter purple at the meet of her thighs, where six tentacles that could beat Techie in an arm-wrestling match wave softly. 

“Ah, you are like him.”

She arches one eye-crest, deep flecks of purple rising up as she motions to Matt. 

“On the outside, this is the difference for you, yes?”

Techie blinks, unsure for a moment until Matt clears his throat.

“Midori don’t have a gender binary, they, like, split each other into two groups based on, like, poetry?”

“Poetry?” Techie echoes, forgetting his own outside parts for a moment.

“There are two kind of Midori, those who read their poetry, and those who sing it.”  Vara says this slowly, like she’s in a room full of small children and not a brothel full of erect outside-parts.

“Tell me, Techie, which one are you?” Vara asks, one of her tentacles curling out to touch the tip of his chin.

“I don’t, um, I’m not sure, I guess, I, um, I like to read?”

“Ah, a  _ shu _ ,” she says, the last word like the end of a sneeze and barely translatable into Basic. 

“I like  _ shu _ .”

Techie accepts the compliment as her tentacle strokes down his neck.  They’re very soft.

“You are a  _ shu _ to me and I am a she to you, I like this poetry.”

“How do you, um, how do you know which is, you know, which? When they’re born?”

Vara pauses, tilting her head to the side.

“You cannot assign these things to a baby.  This is absurd.”

She shakes her head at him and rolls her eyes.

“Uck, humans.”

A second tentacle joins the one on his chin, sliding up to cradle his face. 

“I think you are a prettier human than Matt, no?”

She grins at him, her teeth a slightly unsettling shade of blue. 

“This is a happy day for Matty, a pretty human with the outside parts, you like these best, yes?”

“Yes, I do,” Matt says, so quickly that for a brief, dazed second it feels real.  He hikes up onto his elbow so he can kiss Techie’s neck, brushing his lips right over Vara’s tentacle.  Techie’s pulse quickens with the reminder that Matt had chosen these individuals to join them, that he’s been intimate with everyone in this room in some fashion. 

“For the record, Techie, we’re both big fans, too,” Nax adds, pointing between him and Tor.

There’s a whole genre of holoporn that Techie hates to love.  Squadrons of Troopers are known for their hazing rituals, some of which are tacitly tolerated by the Order and others, outright celebrated.  Techie is fairly sure even the most clandestine rituals aren’t as penetrative as the many, many volumes of  _ Squad Bros _ he’s consumed. 

Tor leans back against Nax’s side in an easy, fraternal embrace that prods at Techie’s pornographic sense-memory. 

“Let us take care of you, Techie,” Tor says, his voice low and rumbling. 

Matt’s big hands hold him like an anchor as Nax joins Vara and Tor on the bed, which suddenly seems just the right size all things considered.  He’s thought about this so many times – menacing aliens closing in on him, obscene cocks out and ready, squads of men who all look suspiciously like iterations of Matt, all of them intent on using him until he’s just a husk of a person, a receptacle. 

Here, with Matt urging him to straddle his lap and kiss him while hands and other appendages run up and down his body, it’s not the threat of Nax’s forearm-thick cock or the shifting stripes of Tor’s muscled body or even the steady, strange caress of Vara’s tentacles all over him.  It’s the way they’re all looking at him like they want him that makes Techie’s skin hum.

“Can we open you up, sweet one?”

Tor and Nax bracket him, pressing in on either side.  Vara slots in behind him, her tentacles curling around his hips and tickling at the sensitive skin of his thighs.  Matt stares up at him, hands braced on Techie’s knees and his lips parted. 

“Please,” Techie sighs, welcoming a suggestion when his brain is buzzing with the infinite possibilities before him.  He lets unknown hands guide him down until he’s got his face buried in Matt’s neck and his hips held up by Nax’s strong hands and Vara’s tentacles.  They seem to move even when they’re holding on to him, undulating like the sea creatures Techie’s seen in holovids.

“Kiss me?”

Matt seeks his mouth out, leaning in to moan when he finds Techie’s lips and kissing him until Techie’s floating.  He pushes Techie’s hair back where it’s fallen in his face.

“I want to see how fucking hot you look when they eat you out.”

Techie nods, dumb already and frankly useless once he feels the hot swipe of a tongue up the back of his balls.   _ Stars _ , that is, just, not a human tongue.  Matt’s face lights up.

“Get him really wet, Nax.”

Matt doesn’t look away from him, just inches down between Techie’s legs so he can keep kissing him as Techie arches higher into the fervid press of Nax’s tongue.  Like his skill with info processing or his inability to speak in front of a crowd, he’s not sure if he was born this way or if something happened to him along the way.  There’s a circuit that gets rewired in his brain every time someone does this, not matter how sloppy or hasty or perfunctory.  And hells, Nax is none of those things.

“He’s good, isn’t he?”

Techie’s “Yes” is lost when Nax points his tongue and gets it just past the first muscles of his hole.  Techie isn’t here for shame and there’s no Night Patrol sweeping the halls to catch him.  He fucks himself back on Nax’s face and moans for it like he’s earning credits instead of burning them.  Saliva drips down his sac and part of Techie’s brain shorts when he realizes it must be landing on Matt.

“Don’t get greedy, old friend,” Tor says, shouldering Nax out of the way. 

He palms Techie open as he whispers, “Lovely,” a word no one has ever said about either end of Techie before.  He’s as slow and teasing as Nax was rough and eager, tracing circles around Techie’s hole with the speared tip of his tongue, flicking it up and down the length of Techie’s taint, sucking at the flesh of his cheeks until Techie is squirming in their collective grip for it.  He can’t tell where one set of hands ends and one begins, just that they’re all holding him up and open and that Matt’s are the warmest where he’s rubbing up and down the sides of Techie’s thighs.

“Stop teasing him, Tor,” Matt says over Techie’s shoulder. 

“He needs it.”  Matt’s voice drops, like this is just for them, the dark excitement in his eyes when Techie whines for Tor’s sharp mouth.  Tor licks into him and Techie aches down to his curling toes, his spine dipping and his weight falling to brace across Matt’s chest.  He writhes back for it, chasing Tor deeper and faster until his whole body is an itch that no mouth can truly scratch.

“I want, oh, I want more,” Techie sighs, while Matt smiles against him.

“Vara should fuck you open first,” Matt says, his hand sliding into Techie’s hair.  Matt is lovely.

“You’ll love it.”

“Yes, I’d, please.”  Techie’s eyes roll back as he feels the first pulsing press of Vara’s tentacles at his well-kissed hole.  They’re as slim as one of his fingers at the tip, pushing into him with slick ease. 

“You are happy to feel me, pretty human,” Vara purrs, sinking into him with steady, roiling flexes of her tentacle. 

“Did Matty tell you I am not ovulating?”  She clucks her tongue and twists inside him, pressing against his sweet spot.

“I would not mind putting some babies in this pretty inside.”

In all honesty, Techie had probably ticked the “open to the idea” option under that one, because being possessed of shame and dignity had not gotten him to this point in his life. 

“That’s, um, that’s fine, I’m fine, this is--”

She presses a second tentacle in, stretching him until that familiar burn creeps under his skin.   _ Yes _ .

“Fine.”

Vara twists and turns inside him, flexing and pulsing and lighting up places inside him he’s fairly sure have never been touched.  He groans, rocking back to chase every strange, overfull swell of her.

“You like that, Techie?”

Matt’s voice is soft in his ear, private for all that Techie can hear the familiar sound of Tor and Nax beating their dicks at the end of the bed.  Techie rolls his forehead against Matt’s collarbone, his hair sticking to sweaty skin as he looks down the broad expanse of Matt’s chest – which, stars, he does sweat a lot, doesn’t he? – to the life-changing sight of Matt’s cock leaking against his stomach. 

“Gets me fucking hot to watch you,” Matt whispers, reaching down between their bodies to fist his cock.  Techie sighs, open-mouthed and shameless as a fat bead of precome wells up at the head and joins the small pool soaking into his stomach, right where that line of hair is calling Techie’s name.  The thought of sucking Matt’s dick and the sudden press of another of Vara’s tentacles has Techie’s cock jumping, adding its own line of drool to Matt’s stomach.  Techie bites his lip.  The mess on Matt’s belly isn’t all of his own making.

Techie turns his cheek to Matt’s chest, damp sweat and his own hair sticking to his face.  Over the long line of his thigh he can just make out the others gathered around him, Vara grinning serenely as she methodically works him open, Tor and Nax on either side of her with their cocks in their hands and their faces rapt. 

“I’m ready,” Techie sighs into Matt’s skin.

“Who do you want first, sweet one?”

_ All of you _ isn’t a feasible answer, even for Techie.  He rolls his shoulders back to look down at Matt, calmed by the unfaltering smile on his face.

“Will you, um, will you pick for me?”

Matt’s eyes go wide.  “Yeah, yeah sure.”

His arms wrap around Techie, pulling him in for a kiss.  This is more kissing than Techie’s done in his entire life.  He moans into Matt’s mouth when Vara draws out of him, leaving him wet and open.  He stays tucked against Matt’s chest, where he can feel the rumble of his voice.

“Nax.  You want to do the honors?”

“’Appy to oblige, love,” Nax says, his clipped accent strange to Techie’s ears but the blunt press of his cock is skin-hummingly familiar. 

“Wanna see you,” Matt says, huffing as he cranes up to push Techie’s hair out of his face and cup his cheeks. 

Techie’s been fucked, so many times and so many ways, ways he’s proud of and ways he’s really not.  He doesn’t mind being used, offering up his holes and his time for men equipped to make him feel the way he likes.  It’s a mutual exchange.  He’s been watched plenty, but never by someone as intent and tender as Matt.

Matt just stares at him.

Techie manages to keep his face together for about half an inch of Nax’s cock before he loses all semblance of togetherness.  As full as he’d been with Vara’s tentacles, Nax’s cock is unyielding where she’d been sinuous, sinking in past his rim and dragging a thousand nerve endings raw with the clustered pearls that festoon the underside of his cock.  Techie’s mouth falls open, gasping for breath as he bears down and pushes against the fat ridges of Nax’s cock.

“You took the whole head so easily, sweet one, I’m impressed,” Tor murmurs, his hand stroking down Techie’s thigh.

Stars, that’s just the head.  His eyes focus on Matt’s knowing, toothy grin as Nax sinks home and rocks his hips forward.  He arches forward for Matt’s mouth as Nax starts to move, kissing him as his body opens for Nax’s mounting pace.

“You look so good, Techie,” Matt murmurs against his mouth.

Techie’s legs shake as Nax keeps up his rough rhythm.  Every pass of his cock drags the fat ridges of him over Techie’s sweet spot, lighting him up on the inside.  Techie’s cock smacks against his stomach, red-hard and leaking everywhere.  He doesn’t want to come, not yet, not while he’s still chasing that edge of too-much that’s so much better than just a simple orgasm.

“Matt, I want, will you just, fuck.”  Techie stops and starts as Nax slams into him, making delighted, filthy grunts.

“I want to suck your cock.”

“Fuck.”  Matt runs his hand through his hair, the roots of it getting damp with sweat. 

“Yeah, fuck, I – I wanted to get your mouth on me the second I saw you.”

He inches out from under Techie, tossing an armada of pillows out of the way as he rises to his knees.  Matt’s dick bobs in front of his face, fleshed red and glistening at the tip.  His hand tucks gently into Techie’s hair.

“Can you, um, just tell me if I’m, if it’s good?”

Matt nods, one hand stroking his cock while the other scratches over Techie’s scalp in the most delightful way.  Another bead of precome wells up on Matt’s cock as Techie watches.  Stars, he does sweat, doesn’t he?

Nudged by a sharp set of thrusts from Nax, Techie arches his neck out and chases the salty drop off Matt’s cock with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck,” Matt groans, his hand squeezing at the base of his cock as Techie closes his lips over the head and hollows his cheeks.

Nax gives him an appreciative slap on the ass.

“’At’s the spirit, love.”

Techie hums as he strains his lips around his teeth and works his way down on Matt’s cock, pushing up enough spit to ease the way and leak onto the sheets beneath him.

“Mouth feels so fucking good, Techie.”

Matt brings both hands into his hair, fisting them and tugging gently until Techie looks up at him and moans, needy and garbled around his dick.  There’s a reason he doesn’t cut his hair to regulation length.

“So fucking perfect, baby, so – wait, shit, sorry, can I – can I call you that, is that OK? I forget.”

Techie is still reeling from  _ baby _ , the sort of thing he hears in the back of his mind right before he brings himself off into an old sock.

Techie moans a fervent  _ mm-hmm _ around Matt’s dick and gets rewarded with a rough tug on his hair.  It tingles all the way down to his jaw and makes his eyes water where they’re rolling back in his head.

“Want you to look at me, baby.”

Techie’s used to men who tolerate his factory parts with mild distaste at best.  Techie knows what he looks like.  He’s never looked up at someone who’s holding his hair like an airlock switch and staring at him like he’s going to vaporize.

“Want to see you, fuck, want to see you take it all the way down.”

Techie’s a freak who makes people look the other way, but he can suck dick like they swapped his throat out too when they gave him new eyes.  Over the wet, steady slaps of Nax working him from the other end, Techie tilts his body just right to open his mouth in line with long column of his throat.  Like good circuity or an accurate psi-chart configuration, you can do anything if you have the right angle.

Techie pushes past the distant memory of his gag reflex, forcing himself to mime swallowing and ignoring the preservational panic in his chest as Matt’s cock lodges in his throat and cuts off his air.  Drool oozes out of his mouth and reflex tears well up in his eyes and Matt lets out the softest  _ Fuck _ Techie’s ever heard.  His face is flushed and hair stands up at an awkward angle.

“Fucking stars, how.”

Techie works his throat, sliding up to make an absolutely disgusting sound and tugging against Matt’s hands until he remembers he has them.  Matt hauls him back, pulling a gloppy trail of spit and Matt’s own generous precome.  Techie gasps for air, crackling over his raw throat.

“Do that again?” Techie begs, his voice soft and raspy.

Matt swallows, his jaw working in tight circles before he swoops down and gives Techie a rough kiss. 

“You need it? Need me to fuck this perfect mouth while Nax stuffs that sweet little ass?”

Techie’s mouth falls open as he blinks at Matt.  They say shit like that in the really good holoporn that even Techie can barely get his hands on.  It’s usually stuff about sluts and whores, and while that can definitely get Techie excited, he’s just pathetic enough for his cock to leap at the way Matt calls him perfect.

“Shit, was that too much, I’m sorry, I’ll—”

“No, no no no, please, I like when you talk like that.  Like, dirty, but.”

Techie blinks, forcing himself to look at Matt even if his instincts are telling him to look away.

“You’re really sweet.”

“So are you.”  Matt’s smile is crooked, his head bent at an awkward angle where he’s hunched over to kiss Techie.  A rough thrust from Nax knocks their heads together.

“Fucking nerf-hole,” Matt grumbles, glaring at Nax fondly.  Techie laughs.

“Can you, um, can you fuck my mouth now?”

Matt smiles against his lips.

“I want to fuck your mouth until I come, baby, is that OK?”

“Fuck,” Techie sighs, because that’s enough of an answer.

Matt’s rougher now, bunching Techie’s hair in his hands and pulling him back down until Techie’s nose brushes against the dark curls of his pubic hair.  Matt smells good, soapy and spiced and perfectly ripe, a sense-memory of the strapping cadets Techie had spent his miserable primary years lusting after. 

He fucks into Techie’s open, burning throat just to pull off and leave him sputtering.  Nax growls every time Techie chokes and clenches around him.  “Gonna make me finish off too soon, love.”

Matt grips his cock up and swipes the flushed-hot head over Techie’s lips.

“Is he fucking you good, baby?”

“Yes,” Techie says, his words wet as he chases Matt’s fat cockhead with his tongue.  He tongues into the slit, teasing out a salty trickle of precome and a needy hiss from Matt.

“Seven fucking hells, look at you, baby.”

Matt slides his cock into Techie’s wet, waiting lips.

“Hungry for it even when you’re getting fucked at both ends.  You’re so gorgeous like this, you know that?”

Techie doesn’t feel gorgeous but he feels really fucking good.  There’s things inside him that only go quiet when he’s full, when he can barely hold on to himself.  Here, with Nax pounding his ass and Matt slipping his cock past Techie’s tonsils, Techie’s mind is quiet, the needy hunger of his insatiable body silencing everything else.

“I want you to fill me up,” Techie gasps the next time Matt lets him up for air. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ells,” Nax growls, all six of his fingers curling into Techie’s hips and pulling his back deep.  He grinds into Techie in small, tight circles.

“I want, Techie, fuck.”  Matt fucks in and out of his mouth in wet gulps, his hands petting through Techie’s hair.

“I want to come on your face while he loads you up, you want me to?”

Techie’s moan is garbled around a mouthful of dick but Matt grins.

“Make this, fuck, make this gorgeous face look even better?”

A few more desperate sucks of Techie’s lips and Matt goes rigid, all the tendons in his workhorse neck straining as he pulls his cock back from Techie’s gasping mouth.

The first white rope of Matt’s come lands on his open mouth.  Techie doesn’t mind a pull on his hair or a good slap on his ass, but the sting of semen in his eye is a hell he doesn’t need to revisit.

“So fucking good for me, baby, so good,” Matt chants, landing line after line on Techie’s face until he can feel it weighing his eyelashes down.  He keeps his mouth open, letting it drip off his lips and onto his tongue.

His eyes are still closed when Nax lets out a snarls so inhuman it makes Techie’s skin prickle.  He gives a few quick thrusts of his hips before he buries himself deep in Techie’s ass.  Over general hums of approval and arousal, Nax pumps into him until Techie can feel it oozing back around his cock.  It runs down Techie’s balls in fat, slow-moving rivulets, thicker than Matt’s come that’s dripping freely from his face.  Techie whines as Nax churns inside him, his hole making thick noises that would horrify anyone outside of a whorehouse.

“Feel him pumping you full, baby?”

Without his eyesight Techie can only sense Matt sliding down by the shift in the bed.

“You look so fucking hot,” Matt whispers, his mouth close enough for Techie to feel against his lips.

He could be kissed like this forever.  Matt makes slow, sighing work of the mess on his face lapping it up just to feed it back into Techie’s mouth.  The way he shakes when Matt kisses over his eyes is easily disguised as exhaustion. 

“You two are a sight, tell ye what,” Nax says.  He pats at Techie’s hip and curls down to press a snub-nosed kiss to the dip between Techie’s shoulders. 

“I envy Matt this view of your face, sweet one,” Tor says. 

Vara laughs.  “I do not think it is so bad to see back here.”

Even half-hard, Nax’s cock is enormous.  Techie feels every ridged inch of it when he pulls out, burning so good.  Techie doesn’t have to prod at his hole to know he’s gaped open.  There’s a sound men make when they pull out and see the creamed echo of their cock inside him.  Apparently it’s more universal than he would have thought.

Matt rolls out from under him.  His hands never leave Techie’s skin as he crawls around to see Nax’s handiwork.

“Seven hells, that’s hot.”

Someone kisses him on his butt cheek, which is oddly adorable, and someone kisses his neck, and someone wraps a thick arm around his waist and somewhere, Techie just lets go, just closes his eyes and lets himself get petted and kissed until he’s up on his knees and sandwiched between Matt at his back and Tor at his front.  Tor’s chest must be twice the size of Techie’s.

“You are strong for one so delicately crafted, sweet one.”

If Matt dives in with his tongue like he’s launching a bomber assault, Tor is artful and teasing, kissing gently up Techie’s neck and tracking over his trembling jaw with his full, bright red lips.

Even the ache between Techie’s legs can’t compare with the delight of Tor kissing him while Matt sucks on his neck.  Techie’s all shivers and goosebumps, as pliant as a rasher lamb in their hands.  Tor is deliberate in his kissing, paying each part of Techie’s mouth special attention until Techie may as well be a roiling ball of plasma.  He grinds back and forth between them, arching his back into Matt’s sweaty chest and grazing his own hard cock against Tor’s.

Techie’s not ashamed of most of the holoporn he watches. What consenting adults do for fun and profit is their business and theirs alone.  He is, however, vaguely horrified that the flared head and fat, triple-fisted length of Tor’s cock reminds him of nothing so much as one of his shameful favorites,  _ Fathier Stable Sluts Vol 2: Breeder Boys _ . 

“I like sharing this communion with Matt,” Tor whispers.  His head tails are warm against Techie’s chest, pulsing in time with his erection.

“His adoration for you in inspiring.”

Matt hums in agreement from the back of Techie’s neck, where he’s lifted Techie’s hair to kiss at the knob of his spine.

“Will you hold him for me, Matt?”

“Yes,” Matt sighs against his shoulder.  “If you want me to, Techie?”

“Please, stars, please, I—”

Techie reaches back to curl his arm around Matt’s neck.

“I trust you.”

He can’t see Matt’s face but he can hear the soft  _ Oh _ he makes.  Matt’s strong arms wrap around him and pull him back until Techie is lying flat on his back.  Matt’s chest is beneath him, bearing his weight easily.  He maneuvers Techie until his head leans back against Matt’s shoulder, where Matt can easily kiss him and stroke his hands over Techie’s thumping chest and his soft, fluttering stomach.

Matt nibbles at his ear as Techie looks down at Tor between his legs.  He’s got slick dripping from his hands as he strokes his cock to full, shining hardness.  The variegated patterns on his cock gleam in the soft light. No dick that huge has any business being so pretty.

Whatever lube they use at Madame Idez’s is different than the runny “personal lubricant” Techie purchases far too regularly from the commissary.  It sticks on Tor’s hands, making tacky webs that string between his fingers.  The part of Techie’s brain that like to pick things apart and put them back together again wonders why it’s made of, until the much louder part of Techie’s brain that wants to get fucked until he can’t remember his own name screams when he feels the fat-slitted head of Tor’s cock press against him.

“I got you, baby.”

Matt’s hands circles over his hips, cupping under his ass.

“I got you.”

Matt pulls his knees back to his chest, scrunching Techie’s body in half and exposing his hole to Tor.

“Yes, yes.”  Techie turns his face to Matt’s delicious neck and spreads his body open.

“Exquisite,” Tor sighs, pushing into Techie where he’s wet and open.  There’s the barest resistance, just enough to kick up the good kind of ache in Techie’s gut.  He bears down, rippling open with a grunt that Matt kisses right out of his mouth.  The sticky leavings of Nax’s come seep out around Tor’s cock, slithering down onto Matt’s taut stomach.

“You’re a heaven inside, sweet one.”

Tor’s florid language would make him roll his eyes in holoporn, but it just makes him giddy amidst the filth of this, with Matt’s come making a tacky clump in his hair and the pool of Krogon jizz soaking into Matt’s body beneath him and the jumping smears of his own cock leaking against his folded belly.

“You make the prettiest noises,” Matt says into his hair, his breath tingling hot in Techie’s scalp.  He’s not sure how pretty they are, but Techie couldn’t stop the grunts and half-whines he makes as he stretches around Tor’s cock if he wanted to.  So often Techie has to be quiet when he’s getting fucked, for fear of discovery or the risk that his partner will find him irritating.  It’s so good to strain and sigh without reservation, especially with Matt there to groan appreciatively at each noise he makes.

“Is it good, baby, can you take more?”

“More?” Techie asks, dazed.  He cranes his neck to peer down.  Tor’s barely halfway inside him.  Stars.

“More, yes, I want more, I want,” Techie rambles, his head falling back against Matt as he bites his lip and pushes himself open.  Tor growls in his chest, his hands folding over Matt’s as he sinks in until he’s flush with Techie’s ass.  Parts of Techie that he’s never felt before light up, and his grip on consciousness gets tenuous as he hysterically thinks that Tor may have found the last few stretches of virgin inside him.

“Oh, fuck,” Matt says, drawing out his curse until Techie blinks back to the warmth of Matt rumbling against him.

“I love when that happens.”

Techie follows Matt’s gaze down to his stomach.  His mouth falls open and his eyes hiss to full, startled dilation.  Tor’s cock is so deep inside him it’s pressing a soft lump into this stomach, moving like a sandworm as Tor grinds inside him.

“Fucking hells, I can feel his cock inside you, baby.”

Matt’s hand presses against the bulge in his stomach, rubbing at Tor’s cockhead and pulling a dying-animal sound of Techie.

“You’re a dream, sweet one,” Tor sighs, drawing back just to plunge his cock back in and stretch Techie’s stomach out again.  Where Nax’s cock had been a riot of shapes and textures to pull staccato sensation out of Techie’s throbbing hole, Tor’s thick, smooth length drags over his sweet spot in one long note.

“Can you, oh, just fuck me hard, please, I want to come.”

Tor curses in some language Techie doesn’t recognize and pulls out so fast both ends of Techie are left fish-gaping. 

“I’m yours, sweet one.”

Taking Tor all at once makes Techie yelp and curl his toes and roll his eyes in sheer, searing bliss.  He grabs onto the first thing he finds and squeezes, digging his fingers into Matt’s forearms.

“Fucking perfect, baby, I’ve never seen anyone take him so easy before.”

Techie’s body shudders with each deep thrust of Tor’s cock, stretching him too-wide too-deep just to draw back and do it again.

“Want to see it, baby, need to see you come with nothing but that big cock splitting you open.”

With his mouth buried in the curve of Matt’s jaw and his fingernails digging rough crescents into Matt’s skin, Techie seizes up around the fat cock in his guts and comes.

“Oh, sweet one, yes.” Tor keeps up his pace as Techie’s cock jerks untouched and spills all over his stomach.  Matt just keeps muttering a dazed “fuck, fuck,” into his hair.  Techie is warm all over as he rides it out.

“Let me taste you,” Tor sighs, withdrawing and curling down to lick a stripe of Techie’s come off his stomach.  Tor’s tongue is a red so dark it’s almost black, a pretty contrast to the white he swallows with his eyes closed.

“I thought we were friends,” Matt says, poking his heel against Tor’s leg.

“I think he should share with me, don’t you, Techie?”

Matt’s voice is rough in his ear as Techie’s brain tries to reboot itself.  Techie nods, his eyes wide as Tor smirks at them both.

Tor licks at the mess on Techie’s stomach, his lips curling to catch it all.  It tickles, making Techie’s hole flex where it hopefully won’t be empty much longer.  Tor rears up, his mouth obscenely full as he lines his cock back up,  _ stars, yes _ , and pushes in as he leans over.

Even when he’s been with more than one man, Techie has always served as a buffer between them.  He stares, transfixed, as Matt leans into meet Tor’s mouth with easy, hungry familiarity.  He tilts up to catch the warm rush of Techie’s come out of Tor’s mouth, swallowing half of it with a rough sigh and pushing the rest back with his tongue.  Tor and Matt trade the taste of him back and forth while Techie floats beneath them, lost in the sight of their kissing and the rough, ready thrusts of Tor’s cock.

They pull apart and smile at Techie, two sets of hungry eyes bearing down on him.  They trade his mouth for kisses, warm and salty with the lingering, familiar taste of himself.

“I can’t restrain myself much longer, sweet one.”

Tor kisses at the pulse below his jaw while Matt suckles on his bottom lip.

“Do it, please, come inside me.”

Techie acts on instinct, grabbing Tor’s head tails in each of his hands and squeezing, praying he’s not violating some social taboo.  Tor’s lips draw back as he bares his sharp teeth.  He buries himself so deep Techie can feel the distention of his stomach as much as see it.

“Fuck, fill him good, Tor, that’s it,” Matt growls.

Techie would swear he can feel himself flooding.  Tor curls over them, one hand on Techie’s thigh and his other fondly around Matt’s neck.  His head tails throb in Techie’s hands, sending off faint pulses of pleasure and satisfaction that burrow under Techie’s skin.

“You are a wonder, sweet one.”  Tor’s voice is shaky as rolls onto his back next to Matt.

“I owe Matt many favors.”

Techie rolls until he’s half-lying on Matt’s chest.  He spreads out on Matt’s broad, warm body like a sea creature happily sunning itself on a rock.  He reaches back, his fingers tucking in to test the hot stretch of his hole.

“Are you tired, baby?”  Matt pushes Techie’s hair out of his face and glances down where Techie’s playing the mess leaking out of him.

“No,” Techie says, biting his lip.  He’s not, but has he reached some kind of time limit?  Does Matt need to leave?

“Good, because I really, really want to fuck you.”

Matt’s hard again.  Techie bites his lip harder at the red swell of Matt’s cock rising up from the come shining on his stomach, come that had just oozed out of Techie’s own fucked-out body.  Far from deterred, Matt scoops up some of Tor’s come and smears it all over his cock.

“I’d, yeah, I’d like that.” Techie stretches before he crawls on top of Matt, bracing his hands on Matt’s chest as he slides back.  He slots the come-streaked cleft of his ass up with Matt’s cock and grinds against it, teasing.

“Fuck, Techie,” Matt sighs, his head rolling back and his lips pulling into a lazy smile.  Techie ruts against him, turning to look at his audience. Tor is flat on his back next to Matt, one knee folded and his soft, still-huge dick tucked against the crook of his thigh.  Nax and Vara lounge at the far end of the bed, Vara curled up easily in the wide berth of Nax’s lap.  One of her tentacles grips his cock while another curls around her own ankle.

“You are trying to kill our Matty, pretty human?”  Vara jokes, one of her eye crests rising up.  Techie shakes his head.

“Maybe, maybe a little?” he says, looking down at Matt.  Techie’s not very good at flirting, but it’s easy when Matt looks up him like that.

“It’s working,” Matt says, lifting his hips until his cock presses right against Techie’s hole.

“You can, um, you can kill me a little, too.”

Techie reaches back, grabs the stick-wet heat of Matt’s cock by the base and lines him up.  He sinks down easily onto it, no less full for how readily his used hole opens for him.

“Stars, you’re fucking full,” Matt groans, reaching down to rub two fingers at the leaking junction of their bodies.  That’s hot enough, but when Matt draws his fingers back and sucks them into his mouth and Techie’s entire being sighs.

“Do that again?”

Matt digs his fingers in, almost pressing in next to his cock where Techie could easily take him if he’s being honest.  He smiles up at Techie as he licks his fingers clean, and they’re still in his mouth when Techie kisses him.

“I really like you,” Techie blurts, stupidly, drunk on Matt’s fat cock stretching him just right and the oddly sweet taste of alien jizz and his own used body on Matt’s lips.

“Techie,” Matt says, like his name means something other than “orphan whose papers got lost.”  Techie’s head buzzes. 

Matt is soaked in sweat and his mouth is hanging open and his hair is half-stuck to his forehead.  Techie pushes it back, smiling at the flushed pink of Matt’s face and the smattering of dark moles that run down to Matt’s chest.  He can make Matt feel good, too.

“You smell so good,” Techie sighs, curling his body to nose down Matt’s neck.  He chases Matt’s honest sweat and the musk of his skin, kissing and sucking along Matt’s collarbone and down to the crease of his arm.

“So good.”

He pushes Matt’s arm up above his head, squeezing at his enormous bicep and exposing the soft curls of his armpit.  Techie is more animal than human as he kisses down the paler skin of Matt’s inner arm before burying his face Matt’s armpit.  Hot and sweaty and Matt down to the essence, Techie kisses and sucks at soft curls and sweaty skin while Matt writhes beneath him.

“Fuck, baby.” Matt’s voice is shaky but his hand is warm and steady on Techie’s neck.

“I’ve never, oh, it tickles,” Matt says, his voice rising adorably.

“Do you like it?”

“Oh, fuck, please don’t stop.”

Techie dives back in, his bony hands pushing Matt’s arms up.  He takes his time, riding Matt’s cock lazily as he soaks his face in Matt’s sweat and his salty, peppered skin.  Matt jumps when Techie’s mouth strays to his nipple.

“Are they sensitive?”

Matt nods in answer, his mouth hanging open.  Matt’s chest is chiseled and so full against Techie’s lips.  He flicks his tongue over Matt’s nipple before latching on, sucking gently.  It pebbles up against his tongue and Matt’s big hand finds his neck against when Techie gently grazes his teeth over it.”

“Techie, wait, I don’t wanna come yet,” Matt says, after Techie’s worked each of his nipples into a soft, rosy peak.

“Wanna do something first, you trust me, right?”

“Of course,” Techie says readily, because at this point Matt could summon an actual fathier into the room and Techie would just roll with it.

“OK, uh, Vara, can you do that thing?”  Matt’s hands move behind Techie’s back.

“Mm, this is a thing I like,” Vara says, her voice lilting with amusement.  She crawls off Nax’s lap and lines herself up behind Techie, the hard lines of her body smooth and cool against him.

“You are going to feel good, pretty human.”

Her tentacles envelop him, wrapping around his legs and his waist, one of them rippling over his nipples.  That feels good enough but the gentle press of her last one against Techie’s hole makes him shake.  He’s been double fucked before, but never with anything like the throbbing, liquid shift of Vara inside him.  She presses in, stretching Techie open and curling inside him.  Matt makes a noise like someone just stepped on his balls.

“Is she—”

“Jerking me off inside you? Yeah.”

“What the fuck,” Techie says, softly but with every scrap of feeling he has.  Matt’s eyes can barely focus as Vara works his cock in supple tugs, sending sparks up Techie’s spine.  He’s going to die. He’s going to die in an alien dick brothel on top of the most perfect man he’s ever met.

“I wanna come, baby, tell me you want it,” Matt moans, his hands wrapping around Techie’s back to pull him closer.

“Want it, Matt, want you to, please.”  Techie licks a stripe up Matt’s neck, tasting sweat and smiling.

“Want you to come in me and suck it out when you’re done.”

“Kriffff.”

Matt’s body goes so rigid he lifts them both halfway off the bed.  Techie holds on, burying his face in Matt’s neck and devouring every hungry moan he makes.  Vara writhes out of him slowly, pulling a string of noises out of Matt that Techie will jerk off to until the day he dies.

The room spins as Matt rolls them over, somehow still inside Techie.  He pushes Techie’s legs up and rears up between them, his chest heaving and every inch of him so gorgeous Techie doesn’t want to let go.

“You meant it, right?”

“Of fucking course I did.”  Techie hikes his legs up as Matt’s cock slips out of him.  Matt licks his lips and smiles.

“You really are perfect.”

He sinks down, his shoulders muscling Techie’s legs apart.  He licks straight into Techie’s hole, eager and rough where most of the other men who have ever done this to Techie have been put off.  Matt’s noisy, too, slurping and sucking at Techie’s over-loved hole, moaning and pointing his tongue to get as deep as possible.

Techie knows the taste of himself well, but he’s never enjoyed it as much when Matt crawls over him and kisses him.  He wraps himself around Matt and makes out with him until their breathing is close to normal and Techie can’t hear his own heartbeat in his ears anymore. 

His whole body aches like a raw nerve, jolting and happy all at once.  Techie’s eyes are heavy and his body has somehow doubled in weight.  Is the gravity different here?”

“I think I need to rest.”

Matt’s face falls.  “Oh, OK, sure, we can clear out—”

“I want you to stay.”

He can’t bring himself to let go of Matt yet.  He smells too good.  Techie pulls him closer as his eyes shutter into sleep.

~

Techie wakes up with his face stuck to Matt’s chest and a dull, throbbing ache between his legs.

“Hey, sleepy,” Matty says, so sweetly Techie squeezes his eyes shut so he won’t have to wake up from his dream.

“I made you some tea.”

Techie’s dreams don’t have tea.  He looks up at Matt, who is very solid and very real and absolutely stinks like sex.

“And you should eat.”

Matt kisses him and guides Techie to sit up against the headboard.  He plops a tray teeming with biscuits and fruit and enough tea for four people over Techie’s lap.  Techie takes a few bites, warming as Matt settles back next to him.

“So, um, what do you do when you’re not, you know,” Techie waves around the room.

Techie eats way too many biscuits as Matt tells him about his job doing radar repair, his fondness for building miniature spacecraft, and the series of novellas he’s trying to get published.  They all seem to involve space brigands turning into captured pleasure slaves.

“I’d buy them,” Techie says, half-truthfully.

“You know, you kind of look like the Prince of Carnathia.”

“The one who imprisons Thane and uses him for sex?”

“It’s not just, like, sex.  It’s a love story.  Thane finally has a purpose.”

Matt’s stories sound kind of terrible, but he’s so earnest in his defense.

“If, um, if you were my captive, I’d do that.”  Techie’s being silly but the way Matt stops and says, “You would?” is dead serious.  Techie smiles.

“Yes.  I’d keep you chained up in my, um, in my quarters, just use you whenever I felt like it.”

Matt’s eyes are two moons in his face.

“I’d make you come, over and over, until you were begging me to stop.”

“Fuck.”

Matt kisses a rain of biscuit crumbs off Techie’s mouth.

“We can pretend to do that, you know, there’s chain in that drawer.”

“Oh, um, maybe?”  Techie winces as he shifts, something on his belly crackling.

“I’m kind of sticky?”

“Have you ever had a water bath?  I know they don’t have those on the fleet ships.”

“Not, um, not with someone else?”  Techie smiles.

Matt disappears into the fresher.  After lots of clattering noises and a few splashes, he reappears, his arms wet and a grin on his face.  He moves Techie’s tray of sweets and picks him up.

Techie’s perfectly capable of walking but it’s nice to sink into’s Matt’s arms.  It’s even nicer to sink into warm, bubbling water with Matt tucked against his back.

“You probably have to get back soon, huh?”

“Back to what?”

Matt takes a soft, star-shaped sponge and rubs it over Techie’s back.

“Your job.  Or, I don’t know, do you … live with someone?”

Techie is full of biscuits and stupid questions.

“I have a tortoise?  I mean, kind of, he lives outside and sort of does his own thing.”

“So you don’t, um, have a boyfriend?” Techie mumbles to the bubble swirling around his bony knees.  Matt laughs.

“Most guys don’t want to see someone who has sex for money, you know?  I don’t even need the money, really, but I like it, and that, you know.  Big turn off.”

Matt shrugs and works the sponge down Techie’s arm.

“I wouldn’t mind.  You know, if I had someone and they.  I mean, I like having sex, too, with, like, a lot of people.”

Techie closes his eyes and sighs as Matt runs warm water over him.

“It’s just fun and it doesn’t mean you can’t, um, take care of someone.”

The water swirls as Matt spins him around, plastering Techie to his chest.

“I don’t have to be anywhere else, Techie, and I don’t really want to be.”

This is a different kind of kiss.  It sinks into Techie’s chest and spreads out all over his body.

“I’m here for, um, two more cycles I think?” Techie says, smiling back as Matt’s face lights up.

“Oh that’s great!” Matt sits up, sloshing water over the rim of the tub.  He pulls Techie in, his fingers disappearing under the water to trace gently over Techie’s hole.

“Brad’s coming back tomorrow.”

~

Matt kisses him goodbye a few hours before Techie leaves for his shuttle.  Techie promises to come back soon, and Matt transfers a copy (“it’s still in the final editing phase, so don’t be too harsh on it”) of  _ Carnathia in Chains: Thane’s Journey _ .

Techie’s whole body aches as he sits on his cold shuttle seat.  Even his ears are sore.  Brad had lived up to Matt’s praises, and Techie had finally answered the question of whether triple penetration is physically possible.  It turns out with enough lube and Matt petting him through it, anything is possible.

Two of the troopers sitting across from him grumble as the Captain announces a delay.  Techie pulls his sweater down around his hands and swipes open Matt’s novel.

“New recruit or some shit,” the taller trooper sighs, rolling his eyes.  Techie distantly recognizes him from either that one shower stall everyone uses for cruising, or the midlevel machine room with the big storage closet.

In the hour or so while they wait, Techie reads.  Matt’s story, while florid and hyperbolic at times, is charming.  It is a love story, in the tenuous consent of the genre.  His characters have surprising depth, and the frequent, inventive sex scenes are vivid and luscious.

“Finally, we can get off this shit bucket planet,” the other trooper says, pulling Techie out of a great scene where Thane is fighting three wild Vultras to protect a wounded Prince Endri.  He’s finishing his sentence when loud footsteps echo up the gangplank. 

“Oh thank fuck, you’re still here.”

A roughcloth knapsack lands at Techie’s feet and suddenly, inexplicably, he’s up in the air.  Matt is holding him and kissing him hard enough that one of the troopers whistles.  Something clinks against Techie’s nose.

“You wear eyeglasses?” Techie says, stupidly, because Techie has fucked half the men sitting on this shuttle but he’s never been picked up and kissed in front of everyone before.

“Yeah, I, uh, my vision’s not great, do you hate them? I can—”

“I don’t care, I don’t care at all.  What are you doing here?”

Between kisses, Matt says something about requesting a transfer and docking vacation cycles to an outgoing radar tech and a bunch of other stuff that’s not nearly as important as Matt’s arms around him.

“I hope you’re not mad, I just, I couldn’t let you go.”

“Mad? I’m—”

“I don’t care if you keep fucking other people, I think it’s hot,” Matt blurts.  Everyone around them has gone silent, and a notable number are staring at the floor and blushing.

“Stations, ready for departure.”

Matt sets him down at the Captain’s announcement.  He buckles in next to Techie, tucking his arm over his shoulder as they launch into the vast, open promise of space.

Techie’s warm the whole ride home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [This is Nax's dick.](https://bad-dragon.com/products/hunter)   
>  [This is Tor's dick.](https://www.squarepegtoys.com/shop/big-devil/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (You're welcome)


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